


Feathers in Our Bed

by Xuza



Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: Anthropomorphic, Avians, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Furry, Human/Monster Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-23
Updated: 2019-10-23
Packaged: 2020-12-31 19:01:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21150638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xuza/pseuds/Xuza
Summary: Short scenes written about my WoW characters: Evadriel Sunwood, a blood elf hunter, and her boyfriend Vronaak "Lightfeather", an arakkoa harrier equipped with a magical dragon-made amulet that grants him an elven form with which to disguise himself.





	1. A Second First Time (Explicit)

**Author's Note:**

> (First time uploading here, hope I've got the tagging and such right!)
> 
> Quick summary for context: this happens after Evadriel first discovers that Vronaak is not, in fact, another blood elf. They had been travelling together for a while beforehand, and were intimate with each other. During an argument about his increased sketchiness (as they were getting nearer to Terokkar and arakkoa territory), his amulet slipped off and his true avian form was revealed. Before words were exchanged, he ran off, leaving the amulet with her. Evadriel continued on her own, but weeks later was cornered by arakkoa who were interested in the trinket and threatened to violently take it from her. Before her own blood was shed, Vronaak showed up and slaughtered the lot of them. She showered him with kisses in thanks, but it was not that easy for things to return to normal.

After having spent days roughing it in the Outland wilds — and now that the two of them were finally reunited — Evadriel and Vronaak chose to make a slight detour to Shattrath City to restock their supplies and sleep at an inn for once. At Vronaak's uncharacteristically firm insistence, they had gotten separate rooms.

Though they had shared an emotional moment after Vronaak saved her from the clutches of crazed Outland arakkoa, they had barely spoken after the fact. Evadriel had tried, but was met with grunts and other clear signs that he was not yet ready to address the newly-revealed truth of the situation. He had very promptly returned to wearing his elven form once the amulet was returned to him, and no mention was made of what had occurred.

The separate rooms thing was an obvious attempt at continuing that trend. An attempt that Evadriel was not about to allow to succeed - it had been long enough, they couldn't keep this up forever.

Evadriel left her room once the outside bustling of the inn had settled down. Vronaak's was right next door, the trip quickly made in a single swift dash. She stepped in through the gossamer curtains, her armor discarded, body draped with one of the sheer violet sheets off her own bed.

"What are you d-doing here?" Vronaak rasped at her from beneath his own fluffy pile of blankets.

"I wanted to thank you, properly," she replied, letting the curtains close behind her, granting them privacy.

Vronaak grunted. "What are you doing here _like that?_" He eyed her from beneath his pointed brows. Neither want nor distaste were reflected in the green glow; he was keeping himself carefully neutral.

She hesitated in her advance. Her free hand fiddled with the edge of her sheet, eyes downcast. "You've barely spoken to me since you saved me. I thought that . . . that I had made my feelings clear upon your return."

"You were just overwhelmed once the d-danger had passed."

"You know that's not true."

"I s-saw your face when the amulet fell! You were shocked, d-disgusted." He looked away.

She chose not to point out that his reading of humanoid expressions was obviously flawed. "That wasn't disgust. I was upset because I'd realized you had been lying to me."

Vronaak ignored her. "I was a fool for hoping we could be t-together like . . . like that.” He looked down at his hands - pale and false as the rest of him - and flexed them in frustration, continuing his self-deprecation while Evadriel organized her words. “But I’m just a withered c-creature, useless, I c-can’t even fly. Maybe I could offer myself as a c-companion animal to you, but you already have your _c-cat_.” The last word was spat out with disgust.

“Stop it.” Evadriel’s voice was firm.

He blinked slowly and met her gaze with a woeful one of his own, but stopped lamenting.

“Don’t do this to yourself. I have not, for a second, thought a single one of these things you’re worried about. You’re not an animal, and even if you were I’d still choose you over Ceilyn,” she added with a half-smile, trying to lighten the situation.

"There, see? One animal or another, it makes no d-difference," he retorted sharply, pulling a blanket over his head. A muffled chitter followed his words, as incongruent as always to his blood elven disguise.

That backfired. "Vronaak."

"What?!" His head whipped sharply to face her. "You know what I am."

"And I know what you aren't." Evadriel came forward and knelt before him. She could only see his face, the rest of his body was loosely wrapped in a nest of sheets and blankets. "I was accepting of who you really were the moment you revealed yourself to me."

A sharp sound, like a cough, escaped him. "Acceptance and d-desire are two very d-different things, Eva."

She frowned up at him — she hadn’t realized that was what all of this was about. "If you want acceptance, you can't judge me for the emotions that come with it." Her hand came up to his face, in anticipation of placing it on his cheek, but he jerked to the side. "I love you for _you, _no matter the guise you take."

The proclamation caught him off-guard, and he slowly turned his confused expression towards her. "You . . . used that word." He took her outstretched hand in both of his — skin strangely cool and slightly humming with magic — and slowly brought it down until they rested on his covered knees.

"Of course I did," she said gently. "I'm confident in what my heart feels. What it wants." Evadriel looked up at him with her own bright green eyes, trying to see through the spell that cloaked him. But, as ever, she had no luck. "What do _you _want, Vronaak?"

He shifted uneasily in the mountain of fabric. He opened his mouth to speak. Stopped. Stared at her for a moment, then stared at every corner of the room in turn. He bit his lip - a learned behavior - and turned her hand over in his own a few times, all the while making halting squawks as if he meant to say something. Evadriel watched him patiently, not daring to move or talk lest she break his train of thought.

"I hope you speak t-truth, Eva," he finally muttered. "I love you, as well. And should you allow it, wh-what I _want_ is to remain by your side for as l-long as you’d let me." Vronaak lifted her hand to his cheek once again, this time pressing his own face into it. "Such gentle t-touches . . . they’re numbed by the magic of this form. I could never fully appreciate our moments t-together — I knew they could be so much more. If it would be alright with you, I would like to d-drop the spell."

Evadriel smiled, her eyes glassy. "I wouldn't have it any other way."

Vronaak closed his eyes in concentration, the amulet glowing a bright orange. His form shimmered once, twice, then appeared to unravel. The hands that held Evadriel's lost their smooth skin, becoming rough and taloned. Violet feathers sprouted down his body, at first barely visible among his same-colored elven hair. Most of the changes were hidden by the blankets, but finally his face was the last to revert: a hard, sharp beak with piercing azure eyes, surrounded by a frill of blue-tipped feathers.

Her hand now free, Evadriel gently ran her fingers through the soft down near his grayish-purple skin. She preened through his crest of feathers as she slid the blanket cowl off his head.

Vronaak chirruped quietly, relishing finally being able to truly feel her touch. Tentatively, he reached up to brush a strand of chestnut hair from her face, trying not to scratch her. But he could feel one of his talons catching her skin, and recoiled. "I-I'm sorry."

Evadriel rested her hands on his shoulders, pausing her preening but having barely registered the small nick on her cheek. "Don't be afraid of a few scratches. I'm a ranger, remember? A mission doesn't go by without me getting covered in them."

His eyes glanced over her features uncertainly, before he dipped his head down and lightly touched foreheads with her. "It has been so long, I forgot how much l-larger and . . . sharper . . . I am, normally," he muttered.

"I like large and sharp," Evadriel retorted. She tipped her head forward to land a swift kiss on the top of his beak. "Now come out, or make room in that lovely nest of yours. I'm getting chilly."

He obliged, unfurling some of the blanket and lifting it up with his wingless arm. After the storm had soaked them through, he had hung up his usually-disguised robes, and for the first time Evadriel had a glimpse of what his body looked like. Long and lean, but not as bent and withered as he kept insisting it was - after all, only the wings were ruined with Sethe's curse. Evidently, his shorter height was only a result of his defeated posture. The dark feathers covered his body throughout, long at his joints, and shorter over his torso. She could just barely see a line of featherless skin on the undersides of his arms, where she had expected withered wings to be. This wasn’t the time to ask about that, however, though she filed the knowledge away for later.

Without hesitation, Evadriel climbed up next to him, soft feathers brushing her skin. Goosebumps covered her as she soaked in the sudden warmth. She was pleased to find that he smelled the same in this form, and happily cuddled close, lying down over his lap. "Thank you."

"You didn't hesitate. O-or recoil. Or anything," Vronaak said with slight surprise in his tone.

She looked up at him. "Of course not. I knew what I was getting into."

A low chuckle escaped him. "I think I’ll be the one g-getting into things here." He tentatively ran a taloned hand down the curve of her shoulder. The rough texture of his skin caused her to shiver lightly, but she smiled to ensure the reaction wasn't misread. So he continued, down her side, finally resting on her hip.

"Funny bird." She brushed her fingers through the feathers on his leg, admiring their slight iridescence. "Is . . . ," she trailed her voice and her hand down his thigh. "Is everything still . . . the same down here? Do we need to do anything differently?"

Vronaak jerked his head back slightly, quickly glancing around the room in a display of nerves. "I-I don’t . . ." He took his hands off of her to wring them against each other. “Everything is the same, mostly, but I _am_ . . . overall . . . larger.”

Evadriel smiled devilishly. “I don’t think that will be a problem.” She reached for his nervous hands, gently guiding them down towards her chest to give them a reassuring squeeze.

Out of habit he made to touch her, unclenching his fist to trace around the gentle swell of her breast, but stopped, suddenly nervous again.

Evadriel placed her hand on his, finishing the motion so that he fully cupped around her. "Don’t hesitate. It’s okay."

Vronaak took a deep breath, reminding himself that she wasn’t the liar here. His hand sat on her chest, reluctant to move away, so he idly stroked her skin while he gathered himself. As he moved, his thumb rubbed her nipple — eliciting a slight intake of breath. Encouraged, he continued, the rough texture of his skin enhancing the sensation.

She leaned up, running her lips along the underside of his beak, placing kisses along the smooth, hard surface. "Can you feel that?"

Vronaak let out a content hum. "A little bit. It's nothing c-compared to k-kissing flesh, but it is pleasant."

Evadriel continued her advances, readjusting her position so she could reach his cheek. His hand reluctantly pulled away. She nuzzled against him, his feathers tickling her breasts. His skin was quite warm, as was his beak, which he gently rubbed against her neck. It scratched her lightly, and she reciprocated by kissing near his eye, her hands once again buried in his feathers.

Taking initiative, he hoisted her up, placing her straddled over his lap. He didn't want to let her go. His arms stayed around her, cautiously pulling her closer. Her own had wrapped around him in turn. They held each other close, tight. Enjoying the warmth and the familiar scents.

After a long moment neither was willing to end, they pulled away. Their heads nuzzled as they passed, eyes meeting. As the space between them grew, Vronaak noticed that her knees had landed on either side of his hips, leaving her spread open.

Evadriel grinned coyly. "I’ve missed having you touch me." She pitched her hips forward in encouragement. As he made to hesitantly reach forward, she took his talons in her hand. She guided him to the warm, wet folds. His eyes widened slightly and he took over, exploring her anew with fingers of different size and shape.

Vronaak’s fingertip grazed over her clit. A light gasp. Then a drawn-out moan as he kept at the spot, encouraged. He slid back and forth, side to side. Rough skin made a good texture once wet, each stroke like a dozen smaller ones. With each movement she shuddered against him, gasping. Drawn to the deeper warmth, he made to move towards her opening, but remembered his talons.

"It's . . . likely not a good idea t-to go in there with these, is it?" he muttered, defeated. His own body heat had risen dramatically, and she could see the feathers between his legs had fluffed out.

"No," Evadriel admitted, kissing along his beak again, "but other things can go in there, as you well know . . ." Her hand brushed its way down his stomach as her words trailed off, leaving the implication hanging.

He chirruped in response. "Here, you sit on the bed."

Evadriel climbed off of him, somewhat reluctantly, as his large hands pulled away from her, slickness trailing from his claws. She lay back in the nest he had made, legs spread, a bemused but excited expression on her face.

He loomed over her, back hunched, talons gently spreading her open. Vronaak lowered his beak to her warmth, sliding the hard, smooth top between her folds. He kept the sharp parts carefully away, rubbing up and down, her wetness glistening over the surface. She gently rocked her hips in sync with his motions, her hands grasping at the pile of blankets around her. The light bumps and dents of his beak added variety to the motions.

Vronaak took hold of her legs and angled them up, carefully opening his beak over her. His long tongue reached out, dragging a wet line over her clit. She whimpered. He kept going, licking around the sensitive nub, the sensation rattling through her.

Her hands released the sheets, and moved to bury themselves in the dark feathers once more. Vronaak tried to keep his beak away from her soft skin, but her grip was strong and she was inadvertently pulling him down in her throes. She didn't seem to notice nor care that she was making him bite down on her mound, as long as his tongue kept going. Hot breath panting over her, taloned hands holding her down. The strength with which he held her hips in place only aroused her more.

As he tasted her — switching between long, full strokes and light flicking ones — he moved closer and closer to her opening. Finally, he allowed his tongue to slide in.

Evadriel moaned as he flicked it inside of her before pulling out again. She leaned up to take a look at him, beak firmly planted over her. Her hands loosened and she let go of his feathers, as another wave of pleasure rolled through her. His tongue worked in and out, its warmth sliding effortlessly through her wetness. Their eyes met, obvious desire in his gaze.

"You should satisfy that hunger of yours," she said, her voice barely a whisper. She fell back again, a hand covering her eyes, grinning at the pleasure he was giving her.

After a few more internal flicks he pulled out of her, drawing his tongue up slowly as he moved away to speak. "I have been."

Evadriel lifted her hand, her eyes lidded but excited. "I can see it in your eyes, Vronaak. I want it, too."

"Well . . ." He stood and straightened up to his full, unburdened height, towering over her. Curious, she propped herself up on her elbows. Now that his own arousal had peaked, his erection freely stood out from the fluff of feathers at his groin. It was not much different from what she had expected — similar to his elven cock, and to those of beasts she had seen, but nothing like those of wild birds. A darker, redder shade than the lavender skin of his hands, with thick ridges angled down its length. He was eyeing her, watching for her reaction. Her judgment.

She met his gaze. "In. Now."

Gladly, he obliged. The sigh of relief that escaped him was lost in his immediate grasp of her hips, pulling her to the edge of the bed. He hadn't anticipated his lust to be so strong — he had held back, worried she would change her mind and decide he was something vile. Now that her feelings were laid true, desperate even, he wanted to show his own.

Vronaak laid his erection against her slit, sliding it up and down. It was solid from months of pent-up frustration, the existence of which he hadn't admitted to himself until this moment. Precum hesitated at his tip, as her wetness made his shaft glisten with each stroke.

She bit her lip, raising her hips up to him, enticing him inside.

He teased her entrance, but was unable to hold out for long. His desperation took hold and he thrust inside, heat wrapping tightly around him.

Evadriel nearly shrieked, grasping the sheets once more. Her muscles clenched around his shaft, hips moving in time with his. Within a few thrusts his feathers were sticky with her wetness, their texture muffling the sounds. She could feel him hitting her sweetest spots. Skin sliding against ever-more sensitive skin, plunging into the hot depths.

Vronaak leaned down over her, his claws by her shoulders, nearly pinning her in place. He ran his beak along her neck, inhaling her scent, while his own earthy one filled her senses. They touched foreheads while their motions continued, breathing heavily. Desperately. Evadriel hadn't thought deeper was possible, but deeper it felt. A strangled, rasping moan rose from his throat when she clenched tight.

She wriggled her arms free and wrapped them tightly around his feathery torso. Her legs, in turn, wrapped around his waist just above his tail, pushing him further into her. Setting her own pace — a faster one. The warmth of him was matching her own. Everything felt tighter.

She whimpered and moaned with abandon. His soaked feathers tickled her clit with each plunge, and his head hit deep inside where it mattered most. Their eyes met after a particularly loud yelp — hers filled with desperation, his focused and somewhat in awe — and the pace slowed but seemed to intensify.

Waves of pleasure coursed through her navel, as a feeling of fullness threatened to take hold. Her fingers and toes tingled, warmth spreading through her limbs. She buried her face in his ruff, feathers tickling her cheeks. A few more hard thrusts and she was thrown over the edge, gasping, moaning. She held him tightly, crying out into his neck, voice muffled by the down. Clenching on and off as she came, mouth full of feathers and birdscent but too lost in her orgasm to care.

Her convulsions brought him to his own brink. Tight muscles, searing heat, the friction of their continued motions. Evadriel whimpered into his feathers, the aftershocks coursing through her.

His thrusts suddenly came to a halt as he reached his own climax, before picking up again. Release shuddered through him and pumped deep inside her, while he crowed haltingly. She lifted her hold on him in time to watch the pleasure settle on his face.

Vronaak slowly slid in and out of her as his ecstasy abated. Seed slowly leaked out, dripping down her skin. He nestled deep inside her once more, before nearly collapsing on her. "Eva . . ."

She finally unclenched her fingers, relaxing as well. Small handfuls of feathers fell from her grasp. "Oh, Vronaak . . . I'm sorry, I held on too tight."

He lifted his head up to glance at the dark fluffs that littered the sheets. "Ah. D-don't worry about those." Vronaak pulled out as he straightened his posture, a thin string of semen following his tip. "Was everything . . . okay?"

"Okay?" Evadriel propped herself up to look at him, his feathers a damp mess, her own hair a nest in and of itself. "That was amazing, Vronaak." She slid her fingers through her swollen folds, slick with his seed. With a content sigh she sat up and wrapped her arms around his torso.

A small smile played at the fleshed edges of his beak, and he took her in his arms in turn, holding tight. They took a moment to clean up, before both curling up under the now properly-arranged bed sheets.

"Thank you, Evadriel," Vronaak muttered into her hair, her body nestled in front of him, huddled tight into his feathers.

"For what?" She playfully tapped her feet down his shins and to his talons. "I’m just glad the mystery of you being so secretive is finally solved."

"And you’re sure you’re still o-okay with all of . . . this?"

She tilted her head up to kiss the underside of his beak. "Of course."

"Then I’m glad, too."


	2. Ceremony of Thanks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Veil Terokk is bustling with activity on the night that the spirit of the ancient arakkoan king is to be summoned, to thank those who were instrumental in aiding his people.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ve wanted to write this bit, using some actual in-game NPC dialogue, for a while. Finally got around to it. It’s short. Vronaak and Evadriel going through the Talon King/Queen crowning ceremony, and a little bit thereafter.

Veil Terokk was gently thrumming with activity. The chatters and squawks of Ravenspeech whispered between the leaves as the outcast arakkoa gathered and prepared for the oncoming ceremony. The decorations that normally adorned the small clearing had increased tenfold in the last day. Deep purple cloths hung from every branch, embroidered in gold, swaying gently in the breeze. Jewelled ornaments of every shape, size, and colour sparkled in the setting sun. Braziers of purple and orange fire marked the perimeter.

For tonight the spirit of the powerful arakkoa king, Terokk, would be bestowing a great honour.

Evadriel wanted to help prepare, but Ornekka was fussing with her robes. Neither her nor Vronaak were allowed to do any work today. This was a gratitude ceremony, to thank them for their immense personal effort with aiding the outcasts with their plight, and dismantling the Adherents.

"Stop fidgeting, dear, or you'll get poked." Ornekka's gentle crowing pulled Evadriel's attention away from her surroundings.

"Sorry, Ornekka...," she muttered, though a smile played on her lips.

The other arakkoa had gathered what cloth they could find, selecting the prettiest pieces for what would make a set of robes; they wanted her to fit in. Though they were cursed and broken, they were still arakkoa, and they appreciated aesthetics. Reds and yellows and purples wrapped around her in multiple layers, some of them embroidered with threads of silver and gold. Various gems and trinkets adorned her shoulders and neck.

What was the most touching detail were the multitudes of colourful feathers attached to every fabric edge, which Ornekka was now gently stitching to her outfit.

When the robes were initially being completed, the Shadow-Sage Iskar came over to take a look. He handed her a feather - dusty purple and clearly one of his own - and, perhaps sarcastically, told her to wear it. It was difficult to tell when Iskar was joking, and Evadriel was unsure about the significance - maybe a shed feather was about as meaningless to arakkoa as a shed hair was to elves.

Nonetheless, she happily took it and tucked it under one of the many ropes tying the cloths together. Feathers were still beautiful, and such a personal touch was meaningful even if he'd meant it to be mocking.

Having seen how pleased she looked at the gift, the other arakkoa were quick to join. They each handed her a single feather, some having taken the time to choose the nicest-looking one on their person. She was flattered, but felt a little guilty at the winces that came with yanking one out. But their genuine excitement over giving her a tiny part of themselves quickly overshadowed that.

Vronaak was the last one to approach her, eyeing her with a difficult to read expression. Her face had been flushed with laughter, her cheeks sore from smiling. She turned to him, breathless, with arms perilously holding the fabric that wrapped around the pile of feathers.

He stood over her, eyes hooded, a gentle smile on the edges of his beak. He reached his taloned hands up and gently held her face between them.

As their foreheads touched, and Evadriel momentarily got lost in his azure eyes and earthy scent, the Veil seemed to go silent. Moments passed while her heart beat in her ears. But when he pulled away, the bustle and chatter returned, roaring back like the sound of the sea.

“You look beautiful,” he said to her, his voice so quiet that his natural rasp nearly drowned out the words.

When she moved a hand to push a strand of hair back in embarrassment, she felt a familiar softness by her cheek. Vronaak had tucked a few of his own feathers behind her ears.

Though they had shared many intimate moments already, there was something particular about the way he had given her his tribute that had her playing the memory over and over in her head.

“Ouch!”

“Got your head in the clouds there, dear?” Ornekka asked, looking bemused as Evadriel rubbed her side where the needle had pricked her. The old arakkoa had, of course, witnessed the prior exchange, and the blush that crept over Eva's features confirmed her suspicions.

“Sorry, ma’am. I'm… nervous.”

“Don't fret, it's a simple gathering of thanks. It's not a wedding,” she chuckled to herself.

Evadriel resisted fidgeting further.

* * *

The sun had set fully by the time preparations were complete. Moonlight filtered through the trees, glinting off the various decorations. Though the night held a chill, the fires surrounding the clearing kept the area warm and free of insects, with orange and purple tones flickering over every surface.

Arakkoa from neighbouring Veils had made the trek over, now that the forest was no longer treacherous. The clearing was the most crowded it had ever been. Stringy, light music carried on the breeze, while the gentle bass of drums rumbled along the ground. Excited voices murmured and cawed. The song of a people who no longer had to be silent with fear.

Vronaak waded through the crowds, acknowledging their kind words and thanks while managing to not get roped into conversations. The various jewels and trinkets that hung over his usual robes felt like they were weighing him down. He did not truly fancy being the center of attention, but understood the significance this would have for his people.

_His_ people.

With the truth about the Adherents revealed, he had little choice but to deal with his self-loathing and accept his place among the Outcasts.

It was not something he could have done without Evadriel’s help.

And it was her hand he now reached for as he ascended the packed-earth steps that led toward Terokk’s altar. She turned to him, gaze warm. The multitude of feathers she had been gifted with adorned her robes, arranged by shape and color, adding a particular aesthetic that Vronaak found he liked very much on her. His own feathers were still tucked behind her ears - though more firmly attached. They framed her face, fluttering gently against her freckled skin like an invitation. He reached up and caressed her cheek with a scaled knuckle, while she tilted her head toward his touch, eyes closing.

Their moment was interrupted by a burst of shadows from the center of the platform. Reshad and Iskar had completed the ritual that would once again summon the shade of Terokk.

The ancient arakkoa king stood tall and fierce, eyeing the rows of attentive birds before him. His gaze fell on the mismatched pair that stood at the top of the steps.

“Thank you for coming,” his deep voice rumbled through the Veil, raising feathers in reaction.

Evadriel and Vronaak bowed low in unison, the clinking of their jewellery the only thing audible now that the music and chatter had halted.

“You honour us with your presence,” said Evadriel.

“No,” Terokk settled his gaze on her, “it is _you_ who honour me.” He raised his voice, addressing them but making his words carry across the clearing. “Long have my people suffered the Curse of Sethe, and long have we sought a cure.”

The old king shifted, straightening. He spared a glance sideways at the Shadow-Sage behind him. “Sorceries, rituals, and rites. Unspeakable acts of darkness and desperation, all for naught,” he trailed, earning a sour look from Iskar as he turned back to the audience. “We found refuge in the shadows, yes, but also shame. We lost our way.”

Vronaak’s hold tightened on Evadriel’s hand, while the king continued.

“I led my people astray. You would have been fair to shun them as others do.” His piercing gaze softened as he glanced between the pair, eyes trailing down at their held hands. This elf from a foreign world, who so clearly loved a withered, cursed creature. “And yet, you showed them kindness. Curious.”

Terokk scanned over the crowd, taking in the visible signs of relief and confidence that his people now radiated. “You gave them strength. Though the curse may forever weigh upon their bones, I see them standing tall and proud.

“You have succeeded where I failed. You have set my people free.” The old king gave both of them a direct, lingering glance, eyes full of emotion. “Truly, the two of you are their Talon King and Queen.”

Without hesitation, Terokk fell to his knees, bowing before the pair.

Vronaak and Evadriel stared, stunned. They both wanted to bow in return but knew that wasn't the correct response. Their brief confusion was cut short by a rising sound behind them, causing them to turn - the gathered arakkoa were joining in.

The rustling of robes and rattling of mail filled the air as each one bowed down on their scaly knees. Within moments the pair were the only ones left standing.

Vronaak glanced down at Evadriel, eyes filled with as much emotion and gratitude as the other birds. “Th- thank you,” he whispered. She beamed up at him.

Before long, the music started up again.

* * *

The festivities lasted well through the night. It wasn't until near dawn that Vronaak and Evadriel were able to escape the crowds and attention.

They holed up in one of the empty nest baskets on the perimeter of the Veil, high in a climbable tree. It overlooked the forests and the still-glimmering spires, reminding Vronaak of what he had lost.

While the Outcasts had accepted him as one of their own, and Evadriel loved him as something worth desiring, he still felt . . . wrong.

Though he shared the same Curse, at least the other arakkoa seemed to embrace it, or had hope that they could be cured. He had given up in disgust immediately, slicing his own withered wings off, along with any hope of their healing.

He had preferred to be viewed as one punished by the Adherents’ system, which he had so strongly believed in, than be viewed as a victim of misfortune. Something to be pitied.

He missed his old home. He missed Talarik. And he hated the guilt that gnawed at him because of it. Even before becoming cursed, they had drifted apart. And Vronaak knew he would hate him like this regardless - the look of disgust in his eyes when he had told him to run said it all.

Without warning, Vronaak activated the amulet around his neck, taking on his elven form. The sudden loss of a feathered cushion roused Evadriel, who had been dozing off against him.

“Wh- what is it, Vron?”

He didn't answer right away, still staring at Skyreach in the distance.

Though he was still not completely comfortable in either of his forms, at least this one allowed him to somewhat forget what he really was.

And it allowed him to cry.

His glassy eyes gave way to welling pools, which spilled down his cheeks with little resistance. He didn’t heave or cry out. He sat silent, breathing deeply, while the tears just kept coming.

Evadriel had no hint of what had set him off. But the way he so suddenly gave in to emotion had her reluctant to pry him for an answer. Instead, she shifted her position, gently easing him to lie against her. His head rested against her chest, her arms gently wrapped around him.

They watched the sun rise against the stone spires. It climbed slowly, and with every part of Skyreach it hit, the golden structures glittered to life. Evadriel stroked Vronaak’s hair while he quietly sniffled to himself, still crying but trying not to draw attention to it.

She began humming lightly as she comforted him. There was something immensely familiar about the tune that he couldn’t place at first. It was soothing and nostalgic. He linked his fingers with hers and tried to quiet down, not wanting her to stop.

The song repeated, and Evadriel sang it out loud this time, Ravenspeech unfamiliar on her tongue. "_Shadows gather when the raven swallows the day_.”

Vronaak’s hand tightened around hers.  
  
“_Burning sky is extinguished as black wings fold gently about the heavens. Rest, my children, rest._” She paused briefly to kiss the top of his head. “_For even the sun must sleep._”

“Eva . . .”

“I’m sorry, my accent is horrible, and I’m not a very good singer . . .” She busied herself with intently running her thumb over his knuckles, suddenly embarrassed.

“No, that was p-perfect.” Vronaak tilted his head up to meet her gaze. “Where did you learn it? And in Ravenspeech, too . . .”

She smiled. It had been Reshad, who taught it to her while she had been watching over Vronaak’s potion-induced sleep as he healed, near death. “A little bird told me.”

Vronaak cawed a short laugh. He’d accept that as an answer.

No more words were exchanged while they cuddled close, buried under blankets and sunken into the plush pillows that lined the woven nest. Outside, the pink sky softly brightened to a pale gold as daylight washed over the Spires. The sunrise’s finale went ignored by the pair, as they drifted off into much needed sleep.


End file.
